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[personal profile] mortalthread
Ya know. I still don't know how to get something other than "Read More" in the cut text, and I've been following the FAQ's on the site.  

Here's another Panic one.  

If you can't tell yet, I'm throwing up all of the stuff I never posted before.  I need to get this journal going, and I actually took on a prompt the other day. So what better reason than that to get this party started.  

Also. I've decided to make an update each week or whenever of what I'm obsessed with.  Maybe I can find a pattern.  I need to learn how to cut pics and stuff though.  

On to the fic! 

Title - Cold
Fandom-Panic! At The Disco
Pairing - Ryan Ross/Brendon Urie
Rating - PG-13. Brendon has a dirty mouth, per usual.
Summary - Brendon's cold. 
Warnings - Fluff. 
Dedications or A/N's-To the water that had been on my desk at wherever I worked when I got the idea for it. 


Pairing: Brendon/Ryan…if you squint reeeeeal hard. Friendship fic…kinda.

Summary: Brendon’s cold. Ryan’s warm.

Rating: PG-13, Brendon has a dirty mouth, per usual.

Dedication: the water bottle on my desk at work that inspired this.


Ryan Ross radiated warmth.

Something Brendon Urie only had when he was onstage. He grimaced as he recalled the countless nights that sweat dripped from his face and he had to lean back a little so as not to get the keys slippery.

He glared towards Ryan, mentally sending him cold thoughts as he burrowed further into the blankets on his bunk mattress. The guitarist was giggling, actively texting someone on his sidekick. Brendon shivered, frowning at him, mumbling about the thin wife beater and boxer shorts he was currently lounging in. He began to do a mental inventory of all that he was wearing: two hoodies, a tee shirt, a thermal, two pairs of sweatpants, two pairs of socks, and two pairs of boxers. He sighed, glancing back at Ryan.

Spencer had always the dubbed him the Human Torch. It had been an affectionate name for him, as the boy was always hot, no matter how little clothes he was wearing at the time. Brendon smiled, remembering the meet and greet from earlier that day where one girl had asked Ryan if he was cold and that was his reasoning behind the layered look. He had just smirked and shook his head.

“…doesn’t sweat on stage…my ass…” Brendon muttered to himself.

Ryan glanced over, about to say something, but his sidekick beeped and he turned back to it. He read the message and laughed loudly.

Brendon groaned, getting out of bed and began digging through a pile of dirty clothes. He made a triumphant noise as he found another sweatshirt and threw it on.

He headed into the lounge area, and into a deathmatch between Spencer and Jon. He moved the game boxes on the couch, and sat, pulling his knees to his chest and he curled up. He tucked his feet into the cushions and cocked his head, watching as the two wrestled in front of him.




Brendon shook his head, shutting his eyes.

What the hell was I on when I signed up for this?“Jon, quit quoting NOT ANOTHER TEEN MOVIE!”


Jon sat up for a moment before diving back down to try and land an elbow onto Spencer’s back. The drummer rolled, causing Jon to nail the floor instead. Spencer sat up, warily watching as Jon rolled on the floor in pain, breathing hard for a few moments and he saw Brendon sitting on the couch.

“Cold again?”

He nodded.

Jon sat up. “Heat’s all the way up…” he grinned.

“Still cold.”

“Pussy…” Brendon frowned and he kicked out, aiming for Jon’s head, and he landed it hard to his ear. Spencer looked up, wide eyed.

“What? He called me a pussy. Finish him!” Spencer beamed, and threw himself on top of the bassist.

Brendon only shivered violently, the shaking becoming harder to bear and he rested his cheek against his knee. Another giggle floated from Ryan’s bunk, and he quirked an eyebrow, sliding from the couch and stepping over the two squirming boys on the floor. He found a pair of Ryan’s gloves on the counter and he put those on as well. He walked to the bunks, avoiding Ryan’s gaze. He stood in front of Spencer’s bunk, and he grabbed the electric blanket, heading towards the back room.


He made a noise of protest, then he rolled his eyes and threw it back on Spencer’s bed. He sighed, standing in the middle of the aisle, shivering and arms coming to wrap around himself slowly.

Brendon heard Ryan snort and he bowed his head, turning back to his own bunk.

“You’re so funny, Bren.” He whipped around, and met playful honey eyes and a gentle smirk.

Brendon moved so he was standing right in front of Ryan, and began to wiggle a bit.

“I’M FUCKING COLD!” His teeth chattered and Ryan furrowed his brow, sucking in his bottom lip. He looked down to the book, and moved the abandoned sidekick off to the floor. He dogeared a page and set the book down on his lap.

“Come on.”

Brendon only stared, shivering and blinking owlishly.

Ryan laughed.

“Get in!”

Brendon looked back into the lounger, then carefully climbed in as Ryan extended his arm. Brendon cuddled close, shivering, and suddenly, Ryan’s body heat was sinking into his own. The arm draped around him, pulling him closer to him. Ryan’s head bent slightly, and medium dark brown bangs brushed Brendon’s forehead.

“You okay?”

He shivered, cuddled a little closer, and nodded.

In a matter of minutes, Brendon’s multilayer were shed, leaving him only with a tee-shirt and a pair of loose sweatpants and socks.

Ryan looked at his novel, then glanced up as loud music began to blast through back to the bunks. They both looked up.

Ryan snorted.

“How appropriate. Minutes Too Far. The ‘Uh-Huh’ song. Talks about cold hands…like yours.” Brendon smacked him lightly on the chest.

“But it’s true!”

“I know.”

Ryan smirked at him, then picked up his novel. He tugged Brendon closer and Brendon moved so his head was resting against Ryan’s chest.

He began to drift and soon enough, Ryan’s heartbeat had lulled him to a warm sleep.




January 2011

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